Moon Underfoot (16 page)

Having exhausted every other avenue to flush the drug king from hiding, they decided to try something out of the box. They contacted Rascal Flatts’s management, carefully explaining their situation and plans. The manager explained that Rascal Flatts loved to support the military, law enforcement, and especially programs protecting kids. After detailed discussions confirming that neither the band nor the crew would actually be near the undercover operation, the manager said they would gladly help. The task force officers thanked him and said this was a perfect fit for a sting. Law enforcement already had Alexa’s e-mail address. They just needed an official e-mail from the band to be sent to her.

The officers had found her on Facebook under the alias Alexa. Her real name was Donna, but apparently she found Alexa to be more interesting. She was an aspiring swimsuit model, and by the volume of posted photographs, she obviously loved to have her picture taken. They carefully studied all three hundred–plus images. One candid shot provided them with a current photograph of the elusive Tam.

The plan was to invite Alexa and a guest to a private meet and greet with the band before the concert. The officers were
confident that she couldn’t resist the invitation and would drag Tam along. Since the concert was several hours’ drive from Tam’s home, hopefully his guard would be down. In an effort to tighten the trap and have fewer bystanders around, the actual takedown would be not at the concert hall but next door, inside the Hilton Garden Inn. Only recordings of the band members talking and singing would be played in a darkened hospitality suite. The best part—Tam would be expecting security at the event to protect the band.

This project had taken several weeks to coordinate, and only those who absolutely had a need to know were read in and then only to the limited extent of what was absolutely necessary for their specific role.

Fewer than five individuals knew the big picture—they hoped.

B
AILEY LOCKED THE
gold mine’s front door at straight-up six o’clock. Her red balloons were swaying under the current of the heater vent. She would be able to try only four codes before she would have to leave. Moon Pie and Levi would return at any moment. She knew Moon Pie would review the surveillance tapes after the money was discovered missing, and she could not justify going into the office too many times. Securing the gold and cash inside the office desk drawer took only a few minutes, allowing her time to try a round of codes. A security camera was focused on the office door but could not see inside. However, the video time stamps would reveal how long she was in the office. She didn’t want to be the focus of Moon Pie’s rage after the theft. Walter was crystal clear that she had to appear to be above reproach so she could start a new life without fear of retribution. Not knowing exactly when Moon Pie would be back added to Bailey’s anxiety. He seemed to have been purposely vague about where they were going and when they would return.

The back room was dimly lit, requiring Bailey to take extra care as she stepped around the full-body lion mount and the deer heads lying on the floor. When she opened the office door and flipped on the light, her mind raced as she stared at the safe.
Inside that refrigerator-size hunk of metal was a small fortune, more than enough to get her out of trouble, out of town, and far away from Woody. She hurriedly secured the day’s gold purchases inside Moon Pie’s desk drawer and then stood for a moment in front of the safe with the cheat sheet of codes Sebastian had given her. She took a deep breath and punched in the next code on her list: 18, 16, 10, pound. Each time she typed a digit, an electronic beep chirped, giving her hope until she pressed the pound sign and nothing happened.

“Okay. Do you like sixteen, ten, eighteen, pound?” she quietly said aloud. “Awww. Well, okay, how ’bout ten, sixteen, eighteen, pound? Shit!”

There was a warning beep after this attempt, and when Bailey tried to press the fourth combination, the lock was frozen, stopping any more attempts for thirty minutes. She gathered her composure and flipped off the lights as she walked out of the office.

Bailey pulled her jacket tight and reached into her purse for her car keys. When she opened the back door, she could see clearly by the streetlight illuminating the parking lot. Glancing up at the doorframe, she saw where she would place the magnet tomorrow. The paint job matched perfectly, and she knew it wouldn’t be noticed. She didn’t know how it worked, but she trusted Mr. Walter. She punched the arming code into the alarm keypad—1-9-6-4 and then “exit.” It was the only code Moon Pie had shared with her. The alarm chirped twice, and then the tiny light turned red. She had sixty seconds to shut and lock the door.

As she drove out of the parking lot, she quickly looked at Sebastian and Bernard sitting across the street in an old Ford truck. She gave them a slight, inconspicuous nod as she went by. Thirty seconds later, a car that had been sitting about two buildings down pulled away from the curb and followed Bailey.

“Woody?” Bernard asked as the car went past.

“Gotta be,” Sebastian said between clenched teeth. He glanced at his watch—6:13. “Call Lucille and find out Bailey’s home address and her cell phone number.”

“This wasn’t in the plan,” Bernard said as he put on his bifocals and prepared to dial.

“Don’t blame me; it’s Woody’s fault.”

M
OON PIE CLIMBED
into the passenger seat, shut the door, and let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Go,” he instructed Levi as he sank back against the leather.

“Those guys didn’t seem like they were normal…like us,” Levi said as he pulled the FJ onto the county road, headed south.

“They ain’t.”

“Them dudes don’t play. That one spic makes me real nervous.”

“I noticed. Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna be friendin’ him on Facebook. Regardless of how scary these dudes are, they can put us on the map…my partial brother,” Moon Pie said as he watched them drive away in the side mirror. He was slipping back into his typical cocky attitude. “Drive the speed limit, and stop at the first squat-n-gobble. I need some caffeine.”

“What’s up with that monitor on your ankle? Our new partners aren’t very trusting.”

“It ain’t a thing. I’ve taken ’em off before. Besides, Pedro back there just wants to make sure we don’t walk with his money.”

“A healthy choice, my friend.”

Moon Pie grabbed his iPhone and said, “I need to call the boss.”

Levi turned his attention to the road and set the cruise control at four miles per hour over the speed limit.

“Hey, boss. It’s done.” Moon Pie chose his words carefully in case the phones were tapped. “They’re expecting us to flip it pretty quick. Clock’s ticking.”

Moon Pie listened to his boss give him directions in code and then said, “Got it. Perfect. I’ll holler at ya later.” Moon Pie ended the connection and then turned off the phone.

Levi asked, “What’s the plan?”

“They’re gonna come here Saturday. He’s takin’ his squeeze to the Rascal Flatts concert in Tupelo.”

“Tupelo?” Levi asked.

“Yeah. Apparently their concert on the coast got canceled, so they’re comin’ up here. I didn’t ask details. You know how he is.”

Levi scrolled through the satellite-radio channels and stopped on ESPN. “We oughta go to the concert too.”

“Dude, it’s huntin’ season. I need my rest.”

“It’d be fun.”

“I ain’t gonna be your date.”

Moon Pie was almost back to his normal self. He was feeling much better and was thrilled that both the goods and his boss were coming to him. He might even be able to hunt this weekend. He forgot about the ankle bracelet as he started coming down from the adrenaline high.

“Hey, let me ask you a question. Whaddaya think of me changin’ my name? I’m tired of Moon Pie.”

“Whatcha thinkin’?”

“I got it narrowed down to two.”

Levi realized he had given this some thought. He was curious now. “Hit me.”

“Colonel.”

“Colonel?”

“Yeah. Like in the old-South days…distinguished men were called Colonel.”

“But you’re not distinguished.”

“No, but it’ll fit me perfect when I get my old plantation house one day.”

“What’s the other?”

“Memphis.”

Levi looked at his half brother and smiled. “Memphis. I like it. I really do.”

“I’m just thinkin’ about it…ya know. I’m gettin’ older, and I need to work on my image.”

“You can be Memphis, the drug runner formerly known as Moon Pie,” Levi said sarcastically.

“Just shut the hell up and drive.”

“Really. Consider Memphis. It’s classy.”

W
ALTER PULLED THE
money out of the cat litter, spread it out on the bed, and admired the cash. It was more than he had ever been able to accumulate during his career. As he slowly studied it, he thought of his wife and wished they had vacationed in Hawaii like she always wanted. He was suddenly filled with regrets for never taking time to enjoy time with his family. He had worked nonstop out of fear of not being able to provide for his family. He was born in the waning years of the Great Depression and clearly remembered its effect on his parents and others. He slowly stacked the cash and rewrapped it in a black garbage bag. The knock on his door caused his heart to race, even though he expected the visitor was a friend.

“Just a minute,” he yelled as he returned the money to the litter box. His knees popped as he stood to open the door. He peered through the peephole to see Lucille standing impatiently.

Opening the door, Walter said, “Come on in. Sorry it took so long.”

“We got a problem,” she said as she placed a plastic bag of recently purchased burglary accessories on the counter.

“What?”

“None of the codes for the safe worked. She was able to try sixteen versions from your list.”

“Damn,” Walter said as he toyed with the cigar between his index finger and thumb.

“We still have twenty-two versions to try.”

“What if one of them isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. If it’s not bolted down, we might could rent a hand truck that’s used to move refrigerators and just take the whole safe…that would give us more time to try more codes.”

“Where would we hide it?”

“We could rent a storage unit.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Lucille replied as her cell phone rang, surprising her.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey, it’s Bernard. What’s Bailey’s home address?”

“Why?”

“We need to go check on her. Woody followed her when she left the store.”

“Oh dear. She lives in those apartments by the hospital. Building G, apartment four. Downstairs on the right.”

“Okay, don’t worry. Sebastian says to tell Walter there aren’t any motion detectors, and he has an idea for the code. He’ll explain when we get back.”

Lucille stared at Walter, growing concerned. “Please let me know about Bailey. That boy’s got serious anger issues.”

“Sebastian said for you to call her and warn her.”

Lucille stood staring at the phone and looked up at Walter. “Yes, okay, I will. Right now!”